The Ligeia
by Straight Up Witch
Summary: Santana and Blaine are buccaneers sailing the seven seas until they plunder an unsuspecting slave ship. Blaintana friendship/ Klaine/Brittana fic.  Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first fic so be gentle and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to Cara my amazing beta (kuhummel on tumblr).**

Chapter 1

"Release the main sail!" Blaine shouted at his crew, watching from the helm as his men went about their duties. Blaine smiled to himself, being on the open sea and feeling the wind in his hair was the best feeling on the earth and being the captain meant that he didn't have to do the menial tasks such as scrubbing the deck or repairing the rigging. The ship was travelling at thirty knots and they were gaining on the unsuspecting cargo.

"C'mon you bilge rats. The slave ship is almost within range of the canons!" the captain yelled, peering through a brass telescope and focusing on the ship in the distance.

It was well built, had two sails, which was small, but seemed to be in good nick and Blaine couldn't wait to see what treasures lay below deck. Slaves fetched a pretty penny at market and commandeering a slave ship would definitely be worth their while considering the crew were handy with a sword.

"Captain, we are approaching on the starboard bow. Shall I ready gunmen?" A small figure asked.

The Captain lowered his telescope and looked back at his first mate. "Yes Lopez, but tell them not to fire until I order," Blaine answered sternly, recalling the few occasions where certain crew members had fired at will, without following instruction.

Blaine watched as the Latina ran down below deck to the gun ports where the cannons would be released. Blaine had saved Santana Lopez from a slave ship, not unlike the one they were about to seize, the girl had fought bravely against the captain and having beaten almost him in a sword fight, Blaine spared her life in return for her services as first mate. Over the years they had become friends and, although Blaine did not admit to the rest of the men, thought of Santana as his equal. The slave ship was too small to outrun the Ligeia and the two vessels came level. "Ready the cannons!" Blaine roared. A few 'aye cap'ns' were shouted back, signalling to Blaine that it was time, "Fire!"

There was an echo of several almighty booms as the balls of steel ripped through the wood of the ship opposite, splintering the wood enough to stop it from sailing but still keeping it afloat. After the first round of fire the captain looked at the vessel, assessing the damage as to whether another round was needed before they boarded. He watched the unfortunate souls as they ran around aimlessly trying to calm the salves. The crew on these types of ships were never well prepared for an attack and that's what made it so perfect.

"Hold fire!" Blaine ordered, knowing that any further damage to the ship could kill the cargo and lose any plunder.

"Grab your cutlasses and swords boys we're going to board her," he shouted, snatching his own weapon and placing his hat on his head.

"Prepare the gang plank," Blaine heard Santana shout as the rest of the crew surfaced from below deck, carrying the weapons.

The long planks of wood slammed onto the other ship, providing a walkway for the crew to board. In the rush to overthrow the remaining crew, there were yells and cries as swords were thrust to the hilt into the bodies of the slave ships crew. Blaine walked calmly, allowing his crew to have the fun of the kill. After a few minutes, Santana came up to him panting slightly, her blade displaying a slight red tinge.

"The crew is all dead including the captain, there have been a few casualties of the cargo but luckily it was the weak," the Latina informed him.

Captain Anderson nodded, watching his crew throw the dead bodies overboard.

"Once the dead have been disposed of, bring the cargo up on deck so that we can decide who we take back and who we leave here," he said quietly to the shorter girl.

Blaine watched Santana as he rallied the men so that she could bring the slaves up on deck. When waiting, he heard a lot of yelling from both the crew and the cargo; some in languages that he had never heard before. The slaves were eventually brought up on deck, all shackled together, making it impossible to escape. Blaine walked up and down the rows of people, eyeing up each one and evaluating what price they would come to at the market.

Examining the slim pickings, Captain Anderson realised that there were a very small amount of slaves for what a ship of this size usually brought. Nevertheless, he continued looking at the crowd in front of him.

Blaine turned to a boy thin, pale skinned boy and his entire form instantly stilled. He looked strong, and there was something about the look in his eyes that showed Blaine he would be hard work, but for some reason, the shorter boy was drawn to him. Under the Captains gaze, the younger boy shifted nervously and Blaine stepped back, allowing his eyes to linger on the slave's blue eyes; possibly for a little longer than normal.

The captain quickly cleared his throat and continued his rounds, though his thoughts of the boy remained. There was something different about the boy that made Blaine feel something different in the pit of his stomach, like he was on the open sea in a rowing boat during a storm. Blaine felt the other boy's eyes on him as picked out the weak, and moved them to side to be thrown overboard. He couldn't help but feel like he was being judged by him. Why did he even care, Blaine thought, it's just a slave.

Santana's eye followed her captain as he strode though the rows of slaves. Santana suddenly realised how hypocritical of her it was for her to be here. Not long ago she had been in this very position to fight for her life, but people do what they have to do to survive and that's what she was doing.

Santana folded her arms and closed her mind off to how she was against this and tried to ignore the fact that they were people. They aren't people, they are cargo, Santana said to herself. The Latina noticed that Anderson had stopped in front of a single slave and was looking him up and down, she didn't know why, though. He was skinny and probably had never set foot on a real ship until now. Next to the skinny slave was a tall, blonde girl and the only word that came to Santana's mind when her eyes rested on the girl's innocent face was beautiful. How could such a beautiful creature end up on this horrible ship?

Santana walked forward towards the Captain and tapped him on the shoulder, waking him from his thoughts.

"Captain the men are becoming restless. Shall I order them to collect the valuables from below deck?" Santana saw a slight nod from her friend and decided that she would leave him to his thoughts.

"You heard me, move your asses and get below deck! Get anything of use and take it aboard the Ligeia," Santana ordered. "Not you. Hudson, Karofsky, stay above deck in case these," she gestured to the group of slaves, "decide to do anything stupid".

The shorter girl moved and leant against the mast. Her eye automatically moved to look at the blonde who was now holding hands with the skinny brown haired boy, their shackles restricting their movement. The Latina studied the two of them, wondering what their relationship was. They didn't look like they were married and they definitely weren't siblings since the girl was too pretty to be related to him. So as a conclusion, she decided that they were merely friends.

The shorter girl, lost in her thoughts, barely realised that the Captain had separated the slaves into two groups, but had left the blonde girl and skinny boy in the middle, as if he didn't know what to do with them. Santana saw tears streaking down the blonde's pale cheeks, and the Latina felt a sudden urge to hold her and make the tears go away. She felt guilty that she had somewhat been a cause for the tears.

Blaine circled the two slaves, knowing that they were supposed to be thrown overboard, but there was something about the way he had looked at Blaine that had shaken him. There was a look of disgust in the younger boys eyes that Blaine knew it was his fault. Well, it_ was_ his fault. He was the one who was destroying ships and stealing slaves, but that didn't mean he was a bad person and Blaine just wanted a chance to prove that.

Captain Anderson looked at the blonde who was gripping tightly onto the boy's hand, tears rolling down her cheeks, leaving a trail through the grime and dirt on her skin. The flow of tears caused the younger boy to lean over and mumble into the girl's ear. Blaine couldn't hear what he was saying but by the tones, it sounded like he was comforting her. Even in this situation, he was still calm and caring, and that's when Captain Anderson decided to keep these two for the ship's crew. They needed an extra few hands and it had been some time since he had kept some slaves for himself. He needed some, especially since the majority of his crew had been injured in today's battle. Blaine thought for a moment, trying to justify this choice in his own head before he announced it to the crew.

"You two are staying with us," Blaine proclaimed confidently, pulling at the shackles to hold the two together, and leading them to the mast near where Santana stood.

"This group," Blaine said loudly, gesturing to a small group on the portside, "are of no use. Throw them over board," he added, throwing his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the port side, trying not to make eye contact with the boy's pale blue eyes since he knew that they would still be giving him judgmental looks.

As Hudson and Karofsky followed orders by unshackling the slaves at knife point to ensure of no funny business, there were yells and screams of terror. Slaves from the group, who were saved, tried to run to their loved ones as an attempt to free themselves, only to pull each other to the ground in a mass of limbs and shackles.

Through the wails and the cries, Blaine's eyes hardened as he turned on his heel to leave the crew to deal with the waste.

"Santana bring those two on board and hold them in the brig," Blaine said, still avoiding the boy's eyes. He strode across the gang plank to the Ligeia, breathing in deeply and trying to shake off the strange feeling that he had been experiencing ever since he had set eyes on the younger boy. The captain watched as Santana roughly pulled the slaves across the gangplank and pushed them down into the brig.

"C'mon you seadogs let's get this cargo in below deck before the sun touches the sea!" The captain yelled, slightly lacklustre as he took his place at the helm of the ship, watching the queue of bodies being pushed below deck.

Blaine saw Santana return from the brig, and watched as she began to lift the gangplanks, leaving the carcass of the slave ship to rot in the water. In the distance he could hear the whimpers of the slaves they had just dumped there. They had to be left behind, they were too weak to even make the long journey back to land and the Ligeia was not big enough for supplies and cargo. Yes, he had definitely made the right choice, but why was he feeling so guilty?

"Set sail for Tortuga. Lopez, you take over steering. Hudson, you navigate. I'll be in my quarters if you need me," Blaine ordered before quickly scanning the ship to make sure there were no slackers. Once satisfied, he disappeared behind the double doors under the helm. He sighed heavily as he leant up against the cold wood. Today had not turned out the way he had expected, and he had a feeling that it was caused by that one mysterious slave.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Here is Chapter 2. Hope you enjoy it and thank you to my beta Cara (kuhummel on tumblr). Please review and tell me what you think :)**

Chapter 2

Santana woke up to the unexpected sound of yelling and the high pitched screams of a female voice. The Latina jumped from her hammock and ran up the wooden steps to the main deck, following the noise, her heart racing and her mind bringing horrific images of the blonde slave's body mangled and contorted. She stopped abruptly when she passed the brig, retracing her steps and hurriedly marching into the location of where the yelling was unbearably loud.

"What do you think you are doing?" Santana all but screeched as her eyes darted around the cell, stopping on the blonde girl lying on the floor, breathing heavily and crying loudly. One of the crew members stepped back from her, laughing, as the skinny slave who arrived with her was straining against his shackles to get to the blonde, his wrists bleeding from the force.

The man swiftly turned around as the Latina yelled, the grin quickly disappearing from his ugly face. Although Santana was a girl, she was highly respected by the crew. As a single male member of the ship's company had yet to beat to her in sword play.

"Brooks, you know these slaves are for Captain Anderson only, so take your leave in the crow's nest. I don't want see your ugly face until sunrise do you hear me?" The shorter woman roared, using all her strength to pull the man out of the brig and back out on to the deck.

Fear flashed across the man's face because he knew that although the Latina may be small, she could have him marooned if he did anything to upset the captain. Still shoving the larger man, Santana could smell the alcohol on his breath, though he seemed to have sobered up after the shock of her bursting in on him. Santana kicked the burly man hard in the leg as he left, just to instil how close she was to reporting him to the captain.

The small woman then returned her attention to the figure that was now quietly whimpering and shivering on the floor. In the corner, the boy continued to fight against his shackles. The young blonde was still bound, but it looked like Brooks had decided that he was going to give her a beating and had pulled her into the centre of the cell. The Latina entered the locked barred room, closing the door tightly behind her. Santana tentatively reached out her hand to place it on a blemish that looked worryingly dark against the white skin, and as soon as her tanned skin made contact with the pale grimy skin; the blonde flinched like the touch had burned her. Santana felt a pang of guilt as she leant down by the fragile figure. She couldn't help but think as if it was her fault that this innocent girl had just been attacked by a drunken crew member; she should have stayed guard or something.

"I'm trying to help you," Santana said, attempting to keep a steely tone, but the sight of the bruised blonde and the sounds of her quiet cries were too hard for Santana to bear.

Santana dragged the limp body to lean her up against the wall, so that she could get a better look at the girl's injuries. From the corner, Santana could hear the boy's chains rattling again.

"Shut it," Santana shot at him, before turning back to the girl.

It seemed that she only had a few bruises, some grazes and she was merely shaken up a bit, but it was a lucky escape because the Latina had seen Brooks do a lot more damage than this.

"Don't move," Santana said, looking into the scared blue eyes for a moment too long.

The Latina hastily left the room and gathered some supplies from the deck below. Santana fumbled with the supplies as she ran back up the wooden steps to the brig, her hands shaking with nerves as she rushed to relieve the young slave of her pain. Santana had never felt the need to be completely protective of another person, but the sensation was creeping up on her now and she wasn't sure why.

The small woman quickly leant next to the girl and held out the bread for her to take. Santana watched as the blonde hesitantly took the food, taking a bite before ripping it in half and throwing it across the room to the boy in the corner who had just been trying to help her. Santana had never seen such an act of kindness between slaves and it made the Latina realise that even in such horrific circumstances, this girl could still see the light.

Santana took a rag and dipped it into a bowl of water that she had brought up from below deck, beginning to lightly dab at the blonde's wounds. She winced at the touch, but did not pull away, signalling to Santana that she could continue with the action. When the blonde was seen to, the Latina tended to the boy's wrists, which were cut and bruised from the rough iron shackles. Santana shook her head and let out a sigh. She still couldn't understand why the captain had kept these two. They did not look like they were seafaring folk and they probably didn't even know how to hoist a sail.

Once all wounds were clean, Santana pushed the bottle of rum towards the girl. "Drink, you will need your strength. You two have a hard days labour tomorrow."

Santana didn't want to leave the vulnerable girl's side but knew that it would seem improper for her to spend the night in the brig with the slaves; it would probably cause questions to be asked by the men. So once the two slaves had had their drink, the Latina collected the remaining supplies and strode out of the brig and back up to her quarters, unable to sleep with the cries of the blonde still ringing in her ears.

Blaine awoke to the sun creeping into the room as it rose from the sea, signalling that it was dawn. In the distance, he heard the sounds of the crew above carrying out their duties. The captain had had little sleep; every time he closed his eyes he saw pale blue eyes staring back at him, with the same judging look that had shaken him. He rolled over, facing the wooden slats of the wall and rested his head against the rough material, wondering why he was so affected by what this boy thought of him. Why did he have the urge to impress him, and why did he have the urge to comfort him? It just didn't make sense. He was a _slave_.

There was a loud banging on the door which caused him to jump. "Yes. What is it?" Blaine snapped angrily, the noise carrying through the thick wooden door.

"The slaves need their orders Captain," a gruff voice replied on the other side of the wooden panel.

"Okay," Blaine said, nodding although he couldn't be seen and he could soon hear the shuffling of boots moving back up on deck.

The captain pulled on his emerald breeches, knee length jack boots and silk shirt, before making his way out of the Captains quarters to deal with the slaves. Blaine ran his hands through his tangled hair as he marched to the where the slaves were being held, knowing that when he entered, he would be met by the same eyes that had caused him to have a sleepless night.

Santana stood at the door, yawning and rubbing her eyes. _Looks like she had a rough night too,_ Blaine thought to himself as the shorter woman opened the door for him to enter. When in the brig, the captain looked through the bars and his eyes gravitated to the quivering couple in the corner.

Anderson heard the Latina enter behind him. "Keys, Lopez," he said, holding out hit hand until he felt the cold metal touch his skin.

As he unlocked the door and moved into the cell, the two slaves cowered, shrinking further into the corner and the boy held his arms protectively around the blonde. Blaine withdrew his sword from his belt and began to swing it aimless around in front of him. He stopped suddenly, and pointed the blade at the boy, causing him to yell. This was all just a show for Blaine; any yells that were heard above would only instil his power to the crew. Retracting the weapon slightly Blaine looked into the somewhat familiar pale blue eyes.

"Do you speak the Kings English?" he said, looking at them and internally praying that they did, otherwise they would be of no use and would have to be thrown overboard.

When neither of them answered, Blaine moved the sharp edge of his cutlass closer to the boy's face. "Answer me!" Captain Anderson bellowed his eyes hardening as he continued to stare at the slave.

"Yes," the boy said feebly from the corner.

Blaine withdrew his sword "Her too?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the girl.

"Yes," the younger boy replied, looking down to the floor.

Anderson turned on his heel and began to pace around the room, thinking what he jobs he could allocate for them. The silence in the cell was almost deafening. As he paced, he glanced at the Latina and saw her staring at the blonde slave.

"Names," Blaine demanded of them. Keeping his sentences short would prevent any emotion creeping into his voice.

"Kurt and Brittany," he answered quietly and Blaine could feel the other boy's eyes following him. The captain stopped in front of them again looking down on the pair.

"Captain Anderson at your service," Blaine said proudly, taking his hat off with a flourish and bowing. Blaine straightened up and looked back at them.

"Well Kurt and Brittany, welcome aboard the Ligeia," he said, gesturing around the cell.

"What is your age?" Blaine asked, trying to hide his curiosity. They looked no older than twenty. _Their years could affect what jobs they do,_ Blaine justified in his own head.

"Twenty one and three quarters," Kurt mumbled, not bothering to look up at the captain.

"And the girl?" Blaine asked abruptly, annoyed at the lack of respect Kurt was showing

"Look at me when I am talking to you!" Blaine said crossly, moving closer to the shackled boy.

"She will be twenty in the coming months," Kurt answered, forcing his reluctant eyes to look at Blaine.

The captain felt somewhat hurt when he saw the unwillingness to make eye contact, since realistically, Kurt should be thanking him for saving him from the slave ship. What did Blaine care anyway? As he'd thought before, Kurt was just a meaningless slave.

"You are to swab the decking until it is clean enough to use as a dining table," Blaine said dismissively.

"Lopez, you see to it that it is done properly," he added before he strode out of the cell with one last look at Kurt.

Blaine came to a halt; however, to watch as Santana roughly pulled the couple up off the floor and towards him. As the slaves stumbled, Anderson saw a glint of gold in the candle light around the neck of the girl. Once Kurt and Brittany were out of the cell, the captain reached forward and pulled the girl towards him, inspecting the polished ring that was around the blonde's neck. He snatched it and looked at her questioningly. The blonde winced at the tug of the twine around her neck and tried to reach out to grab the jewellery. Upon examination, Blaine decided that it was definitely an engagement ring. Small but precious material would be worth some money. Strangely, at the thought of it being a wedding ring, Blaine's stomach dropped. It caused him to feel a sudden wrench jealousy which confused the captain further.

"Take the lovebirds to get brushes and lather," he said, masking his emotions with a sneer.

Santana had an equally confused and angry look on her face, but the Latina wasn't as good at hiding her emotions and it was apparent that the woman was also having a bout of emotions at the sight of the ring.

Blaine stormed out of the brig, needing to feel the fresh and familiar sea air on his face. Maybe the spray of the salt water would shake the concoction of emotions that was overrunning his body like parrot fever. Within several minutes of being on the main deck of the ship, the slaves were swabbing the deck, the sun beating down on their backs as the shouts of Santana Lopez resounded in their ears. Captain Anderson stood and watched from the quarter deck, his dark eyes being met by Kurt's pastel blue in a belligerent glare.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you to my amazing beta Cara (: Please review and let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

Four days had passed since the Ligeia had taken down the small slave ship, and it was now on its way to Tortuga. The ship was travelling at about six knots and the sails were full. Santana watched as Kurt and Brittany scrubbed at the deck. They had been at it for over eight hours and the pale skin of the two of them was red raw with sun burn. The sun was low in the sky, but they had still not finished the whole deck, and as Captain Anderson had ordered, they were not to rest until the deck was sparkling. Kurt's muscles ached and were screaming at him to stop, but his mind told him to forge on and not to be defeated by these evil pirates.

The boy sighed heavily and looked to his right at Brittany, who was equally as exhausted with tears silently streaming down her face. The blonde had not spoken since they had been thrown aboard the slave ship. Kurt had made attempts to get her to talk, but she appeared broken and there was next to nothing he could do about it. Kurt looked up to the sound of the Latina clearing her throat.

"You picaroons are done," Santana said, throwing an apple core over the side and carelessly into the sea.

Kurt and Brittany were roughly pulled up by their shackles and led to the brig. Kurt obliged not having enough strength to fight against it and allowed himself to be pushed forcefully to the floor. Once he had watched the brunette lock the door to the cell and disappear, he used his remaining energy to crawl ovrr to the blonde and wrap his arms tightly around her.

In the distance the boy heard Santana yell: "Brooks if I see you or anyone near the brig, I will strap you to a cannon and throw you overboard!"

Kurt sighed deeply, his mind returning to the night before when he had just powerlessly watched Brittany be beaten to the ground. The images were still vivid and the screams continued to play through his head like an unbearable musket shot reverberating through his body. Kurt gently kissed the top of the blonde's head and stroked the matted hair, trying to soothe the poor, terrified girl in his arms.

Kurt had no words for her. He could give her no hopes or promises that they would be saved and as they sat on the cold, damp floor of the Ligeia's brig, a wave of complete helplessness washed over him and a single tear ran down the boy's cheek.

Drifting in and out of sleep, Kurt's dreams were filled with the face of Captain Anderson with his sly grin and dark eyes. The boy's hatred for the captain grew at the thought of how many innocent people the captain had killed and how he acted like he was merely disposing of rotten food, as though those human beings were worth nothing to him.

Kurt awoke to a small tugging at his shirt.

"Kurt," a small voice said.

"Brittany?" the boy said, turning to face the girl; he had almost forgotten the sound of her voice.

"What is it? Are you alright?" Kurt flooded the girl with questions having had no communication with her for about a week. He couldn't believe that she had finally broken her silence.

"I think so," Brittany said, turning to look at Kurt in the dim light of the moon that was shining through the gaps in the wooden slats of the ship.

"This isn't a dream, is it?" The girl said dejectedly, and as Kurt looked at her properly for the first time, he noticed that her eyes were bloodshot from hours of crying.

"No," was all the boy could manage to say, squeezing the girl comfortingly as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"Why did this happen to us Kurt? We were doing everything right. We changed, and yet still they denounce us." Brittany's voice crackled as she buried her head into the boy's chest.

"I know," he said, tears beginning to roll down his own cheeks. He had been pushing down his emotions as soon as Brittany had stopped speaking, and now that the blonde had found her voice, his emotions had surfaced, rearing it's ugly head like a kraken.

Neither knew how to console the other and the only thing they could do was hold one another, but not even that seem to fill the empty space that they both felt in their chests. Kurt knew that what the blonde had said wasn't true; they hadn't changed, they had merely appeared to have changed. But what did that matter now? They had been driven from their home town and were currently enslaved on a ship being treated like menial objects. If they were objects, then technically they should be able to harbour feelings. Kurt only wished that this were the case, for Brittany, and for himself.

***

"Wake up," Santana ordered, running her sword along the metal bars which created a large clanging reverberation through the cell. The two bodies in the brig merely stirred, causing Santana to become angry.

She had already allowed them to sleep for longer than usual, knowing that yesterday's hard work had been tough on them, but Santana wouldn't admit to going soft on the slaves to the men.

"Bilge rats, I said move it!" The Latina yelled, wrenching open the cell door and gesturing with her head towards the main door with an exasperated look on her face.

Santana watched impatiently as the couple groggily rose, groaning as they stretched their muscles, making the shackles rattle as she released them.

Santana herded the pair on deck and grabbed some rope on the way to the starboard side of the hull. To prevent the slaves from escaping, the Latina tied the rope to two cannon balls before tightly wrapping the weighted rope round their waists.

"Don't even think about throwing yourself overboard," Santana said sternly into Brittany's ear as she tied the knot behind her.

The men jeered at the two slaves as they busied about their jobs around the ship. Santana laughed along with them. She didn't find it remotely as amusing, but she only joined in to avoid doubts from the crew.

"You'll be scrubbing the canons, so get to work," Santana commanded, throwing rags at Kurt and Brittany, not allowing her eyes to linger on the blonde for too long this time.

She turned on her heel and marched up to quarter deck where the captain stood, watching over the crew and slaves. She stood next to Blaine and yawned deeply. The shorter woman hadn't had a sounds sleep since the blonde had joined the ship's crew, and Santana's didn't understand why. What sleep she did get her dreams were filled with the girl's beautiful face and the look of terror that had been etched on the blonde's features after her beating from Brooks.

Santana looked at Blaine and noticed the vacant expression on his face, also looked fatigued, and the Latina wondered if his cause for sleep deprivation was the boy the captain was currently staring at.

"Captain Anderson, what ails you?" the woman asked, shifting in her jack boots.

She and Blaine were friends, but the relationship was deemed inappropriate that they usually refrained from conversing unless it was strictly business.

"Nout," Blaine said, the vacancy in his eyes shrinking which was replaced by the usual sparkle to show his presence in the world.

"I was merely seeing to the sea charts," the captain said, looking down at the parchment on the crate before them. "The course is set and we should port at Tortuga within the next few days," he added, tracing the route with his finger.

"Good. So we can be rid of the cargo and out of there before the-" Santana stopped herself, only glancing up for a second to see Brooks inadequately tying the reef sails.

Storming towards the oaf, the Latina bellowed, "Brooks! I said tie it fast, not as loose as a whore's corset," and snatched the rope from his grasp, pulling it tight.

Since he had attacked Brittany, Santana had made a point of making an example of Brooks. The actions of the man caused a rather surprising amount of anger within Santana and the woman had a compulsion to protect the blonde girl. As she continued to scold Brooks, she heard the sound of two splashes, one shortly followed by the other.

Santana spun round. Where Kurt and Brittany should have been was empty decking. Santana tore off her waist coat before pulling the small knife from her belt and dove over the starboard side, plunging into the deep, cold water.

Bubbles surrounded her and her vision was blurred as though looking through a misted window. The Latina's heart was hammering as she looked down and followed the trail of gas particles leading her to the ever sinking girl. Santana reached out, grasping at the cloth and pulling it towards her. The girl's blonde hair shrouded her face like a veil, almost seeming as suffocating as the water. The Latina sawed at the rope, praying that her lungs would hold out longer. The cannon ball was still dragging them further into the darkness. With the cord cut, Santana used her remaining strength to reach the surface. It seemed fathoms away. Her lungs were burning but she fought on, dragging the limp blonde with her.

She felt the air on her face, inhaling it like it was her first breath and clutched the blonde to her chest. Trying to keep her head above water, she yelled breathlessly, "Cast a line! Cast a line!"

Santana gripped Brittany as tightly as she could; scared that letting her go would cause the blonde to die. What felt like an eternity passed until she felt a rope land next to her. She blindly gripped it and allowed herself to be reeled in like a fish on a hook, cradling the girl, scared that she was too fragile to be touched by any other person.

The next few moments were blurred. She laid the unconscious girl on the decking and knelt by her side. The crew disappeared into the background and all Santana could see was the cold, damp girl. The Latina took Brittany's shoulders in her hands and shook her fiercely.

"Wake up," she urged, allowing her emotion to uncharacteristically creep into her voice, praying that Brittany wasn't dead.

A wave of terror washed over Santana as she stooped over the body, unmoving and lifeless. Why did she care so much? Why did a girl - a slave that she had only known for a matter of days - have so much of a hold on her?

The Latina closed her eyes, allowing a blackness to swallow her. She slipped into grief, her heart feeling as if was about to give up, Brittany being the motor that powered it.

***

The captain sniggered to himself as his first mate reprimanded Brooks, admiring how such a small person could hold so much anger - but then again, she did keep the crew in check, and even Blaine himself.

He looked back at his sea charts, inspecting the route they were taking. Lost in his thoughts, the Captain was abruptly brought back to reality when the sound of bodies hitting the water travelled to his ears. His eyes darted up to see Santana running towards the edge of the ship. Blaine watched as the small woman disappeared over the edge of the hull, creating a loud splash as she impacted with the water. He reacted instantly.

Ripping of his coat, Blaine unsheathed his sword and leapt in after the Latina. The man's heartbeat pounded in his head and the only thoughts that came to the captain's mind were how he had to save Kurt as the water surrounded him, attempting to suffocate him within the first few seconds.

Blaine forced his eyes open, the water clouding his vision, and dug deep with his arms powerfully moving towards the mass of cloth that resembled Kurt. Blaine raced after him, pushing down the need to take a breath. The captain felt like he was racing against the weighted ball that was dragging Kurt to a watery grave and he forced his limbs to move.

Finally, the boy was within reach and with every ounce of his strength, Blaine slashed at the rope with his sword that connected the boy to the canon ball. Willing his body not to fail him, Blaine fought to the surface, pushing Kurt above him. He could only pray that the boy would remember how to breathe once out of the black water.

Breaking through the liquid membrane, Blaine gasped, allowing the air to enter his lungs which filled him with a new energy. In the distance as if miles away, Blaine heard the Latina's familiar voice calling for a line and he felt the rope smack the surface of the water that was near him. Blaine gripped the rope in a vice like hold, his muscles shouting at him to give up, but he willed himself not to.

Nearly dropping to the floor with the weight of Kurt in his arms, he stumbled onto the deck, putting the body in front of him and throwing his sword to the side. Dripping wet, Blaine waited and hoped to see if Kurt's chest would rise and fall.

All noises were faded and all that Blaine's vision allowed him to see was a motionless boy. Blaine's eyes hardened. _Please don't die, please don't die_, was running through the captain's head as he willed his life on to Kurt, wishing that he could give the frozen boy some of his energy. That was when Blaine realised that he would give Kurt anything. Literally anything. Why was this happening? He was Captain Anderson; no one had ever made his heart ache as much as this boy, who was lying unmoving in front of him. Kurt wasn't allowed to leave him, not after this revelation. It just wouldn't be right.


End file.
